


I find shelter, in this way

by Sihena



Series: Tomorrow is a long time [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Chess, mildly angsty, non-romantic, platonic friendship, post S4 spec, trying to fill this hiatus sized hole in my heart through fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 20:14:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11020758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sihena/pseuds/Sihena
Summary: So they played chess. As a routine, as a ritual. As a way to fall asleep without the demons that crowded that spaceship. They sit in front of the board and pass the chess pieces over the black and grey tiles. And, sometimes, they talk.





	I find shelter, in this way

“Guess what I found?”

“A rocket launcher.”

Harper rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you’re right. Jaha was hiding a fucking rocket launcher on the ark this whole time.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Harper smiled and set the board on the table, settling into the chair across from him. Bellamy raised an eyebrow.

“Chess?”

“The ultimate western strategy game. I was hoping to find Go, but I couldn’t find it. So chess it is.”

“Isn’t it a two person game?”

“What, like you’re busy?” Harper asked, pointedly looking at the botanic book Monty had given him that he was now doodling in.

He sighed “Harper—”

“I know you aren’t,” Harper said, ignoring his tone. “So I thought we could play chess.” Harper pulled out a drawstring bag from her pocket and poured a bunch of little figurines onto the board. Bellamy picked one up and rolled it in his fingers. It was a horse shaped figure, made of bent metal and sharp angles. He started placing them on the board with her. “Monroe and I would actually play it when our shifts finished. It took us forever to make the pieces, which we did by whittling wood. We lost them after Mount Weather captured us.”

“You whittle?”

“Yep, I’m awesome at it,” she said, moving a pawn, smirking. “Raven helped me make these ones from scrap metal up here, which was hard but I think they turned out okay.”

“They’re really well made, you should be proud,” he said genuinely. “So you’re good at whittling and metalworking—”

“I’m awesome at whittling and metal working”  
Bellamy laughed “Alright, you’re awesome at whittling and metalworking...any other secret talents you got hidden up your sleeve McIntyre?”

“I’m pretty awesome at chess too.”

“Those sound like fighting words McIntyre.”

“Only if you’re up for a fight.”

“I’m always up for a fight.”

Harper smiled. “Good. I am too.”

~~~

It became a thing. They’d sit in front of the board and pass the chess pieces over the black and grey tiles. Occasionally someone else would sit down for a game or two, Murphy would wander over when he was in the mood to mock Bellamy, or Raven would come over to kick everyone’s asses. Emori spent an entire afternoon at the board with Raven, who explained the game to her. Echo wandered in as they played, and learned the game quickly and became the only one who ever came close to beating Raven (their final game was interrupted by a solar flare, which understandably threw Echo off her game). Monty didn’t have a lot of patience for the game, but would sit on the sidelines to cheer Harper on whenever he had the time.

So Bellamy and Harper weren’t the only two to use the chess board, but they were the only two who routinely structured their days around it. Every night, post algae dinner they’d sit down and play for a few hours at a time.

For Bellamy, Harper’s chess distraction was a welcome one. Typically, after dinner most of the couples would disperse back to their rooms. Murphy and Emori, and Raven and Echo (who had started hooking up a month into their cloistering in space) would gradually leave him alone so that they could get back to their partners and unwind from the day. But Bellamy had no one to pillow talk with, no one to undress with, and no one to fall asleep with. And chess was mentally exhausting enough (Harper wasn’t wrong; she was amazing and basically a chess fiend) that once he did stumble into his bunk it was easy to fall asleep without seeing Clarke’s silhouette as she left his sight for the last time. It was easy to ignore the empty buzz of the radio as Octavia’s signal fell through. It was easy to forget what Jasper looked like as they said their goodbyes. Easy to pretend like he never closed the rocket door on Clarke.

And for Harper, it was a way of avoiding the dreams that haunted her, avoiding Arkadia and memories of Riley, of Bree, of Jasper…  
Harper loved Monty, and was glad that she had followed him to the island, most of the time. But there were times on the ring when the weight of her memories held a vice-like grip on her mind that sheer force of will couldn’t shake off. Those were the days when it was hard to remember why she ever got out of bed, why anyone really needed her. Monty tried his best to be there for her, but they were grieving in different ways. Monty was like a shark; he needed to be constantly in motion to breathe, to survive. He took on more and more responsibility on the ring, creating schedules and prioritizing assignments. He spent the evenings checking in on the algae farms and he had the late shift to monitor the controls for everything. He wouldn’t be home until sometimes the early morning and eventually Harper couldn’t stand being in their room alone, lying awake with only her thoughts for company. So she explored the ship, until one night, she found the chess board, and subsequently found Bellamy trying to alleviate his own loneliness with doodles. The shadows of the dead seemed to crowd around him the most of any of them, perhaps even more than Monty. So she wanted to be there for him, the way he was for her when he rescued her and their friends from during their darkest hours in Mount Weather.

So they played chess. As a routine, as a ritual. As a way to fall asleep without the demons that crowded that spaceship. Sometimes they’d trash talk each other, but most of the time they would play quietly. Let the silence and the click of the pieces create a soothing rhythm to breathe easily to. On other nights though, they’d use the distraction of the game as a chance to check in.

“Your move,” Bellamy said, setting her rook on the table next to the board. Harper hummed in acknowledgement.

“You know,” her eyes flickered to his before monitoring the board again, “it’s been almost a year.”

Bellamy tensed but Harper kept her eyes to the pieces. Of course he knew, they all knew. They talked about testing out some of the recreational plants that Monty was trying to grow as a way to celebrate a year safe in space just a few days ago. He guessed that Harper noticed he had been quiet during that particular conversation.

“Yeah,” was all he said.

“It’s gone by fast,” Harper said, moving a pawn into position to be sacrificed.

“Not fast enough.” He sighed. “Harper, we don’t—”

“We’re a fifth of the way through. Only four more years.”

A muscle in his jaw jumped. “That’s less consoling than you think it is.”

“Bellamy--”

“Harper.”

She folded her arms over the table and leaned in to look at him. He ran his hand through his hair, and refused to meet her eyes, studiously examining the chess pieces instead.

“She’d want you to be happy sometimes,” she said softly. “You’re allowed to—”

“Harper.”

“Just celebrate this one thing. We’re a year closer to Earth. A year closer to a proper burial. That’s something to be happy--” he snorted and she shook her head

“No, you’re right. Not happy. But...it’s something to give you a purpose.”

“I have a purpose.”

“Survival isn’t a purpose. It’s—”

“I have you guys,” Bellamy said, stopping Harper short. “And Octavia, hopefully, waiting for me down there.” He averted his gaze back to the chess board and moved the queen forward, leaving his knight vulnerable and unguarded. “I won’t pretend like it’s easy up here, or that I like it, because clearly you know that I don’t. But...I’m not hopeless either. I’m just…”

“Trying to mourn?” Harper supplied.

“Yeah,” Bellamy nodded slowly. “It’s only been a year since she—and I—”

“Yeah I know,” Harper swallowed and moved her rook to take a pawn instead of taking his knight. “Monty doesn’t want to talk about it but I can tell...maybe you could talk to him. Since you both lost your…” her eyes flick to his face, but he’s staring resolutely down at the board. “Your best friends.”

He nodded but couldn’t bring his jaw to open, nervous that if he untensed things would come pouring out that he couldn't take back.

“Want to call it a draw?” she said, looking over the board. “I think it’ll take us another hour to finish this, if we’re lucky. And I’m kind of tired of chess. Aren’t you?”

She watched him run his hand across his jaw where stubble was growing in kind of poorly. It took another minute for him come to smile wryly at her, nodding.

“Yeah. I think I’ll wait to kick your ass tomorrow.”

“In your dreams Blake.”

He smiled and tugged at her braid, and she wondered if this was what it felt like to have a brother. “Same time again tomorrow McIntyre.”

She smiled and mock-saluted him. He smirked and they quickly cleared the table up. At the door he paused and put a hand on her arm. “I’ll come to it next week. I can’t promise that I’ll stay the whole time—”

“Old man,” she teased.

“—but I’ll, uh, I’ll make an effort.” He gave her a small smile, and she smiled too.

“That’s all we can ask,” she said as he walked away. She turned on her heel and headed to her room, to sleep with hope on her mind.

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of really want to see these two become besties on the ring, I think they could really help each other. I also am so down for Raven and Echo banging, and Monty becoming unofficial city manager of the ring. Let's be real, Monty gets shit done and he does it well. 
> 
> Also, uh, this is the first fic I've ever posted! Hope you enjoyed it! I was inspired by the Season 4 finale in a way I haven't been with this show before, so I actually created a list of fanfic prompts on twitter, and all that head-canoning drove me to actually write. Find me on twitter [here](https://twitter.com/heda_skaikru)! 
> 
> Title from Shelter by Birdy!
> 
> I don't have an editor/beta, so I rightfully claim any and all errors as mine :)


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